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COUNTRY |
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MATTERS |
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by Paul
Cormacain |
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Ulster Star
30/11/2001 |
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Every
year I go and watch the trout move up-river. Taking up a good position
on a disused road I can look down into a large pool into which a small
waterfall drops.
It may only be a metre or so high, but it represents a serious obstacle
to trout which would rarely exceed one lb. in weight.
It is so long since I weighed fish that they do not get their weights
converted into metric.
The trout take an approach run and hurl themselves out of the water and
if lucky will reach the top of the waterfall where the water is running
very fast and strong.
They manage to inch their way, (what, more un-metric?) and eventually
reach less strong water. Then away with them to the next obstacle.
Frequently the waterfall will prove too high and too strong for them. In
that case, when they start to fall back they always fall into the path
of the dropping water. Then they will try to actually swim up through
the waterfall, but invariably will fall back.
Then they have to try again. Never mind that spider on Rathlin, think
about the brave trout near Buachail.
I watched the dipper for a time. It would sit bobbing on a rock for a
time then submerge and `walk' upriver under water, on the lookout for
breakfast. It would not have caught any small fish in that stretch of
water at that time, so it would have been on the lookout for insects.
It takes water beetles, water-boatmen, caddis larvae, dragonfly nymphs,
worms and tadpoles. A great human diet if you wanted to lose weight.
If that bird was a parent this year the nest was under the bridge from
where I watch the leaping trout. If it was just born this year, it was
hatched in the self same nest. I visit every year to watch the dippers
nest in spring, and watch the trout jump in the winter.
Too bad Uncle Billy is not around any longer, he could catch some trout
for me.
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Tales from childhood
NORTH of Lisburn, near a spot called Buachail Mountain,
I used to go roaming when a child. Not much of a mountain was Buachail
you understand, not fit to get a mention in Best Mountains of the World,
but it just reeks of a happy childhood.
More years ago than I care to remember my Uncle Billy told me it was a
twin to Colin Mountain, west of Belfast.
His idea was that Colin was a 'girl' mountain, while Buachail was a
'boy' mountain, but he was unclear about how this came about.
Since I have never heard it mentioned again it seems to me this is an
old story hidden in the mists of time, and probably only lingering on in
some 'old' heads, like my own.
Anyone out there know anything about this story ? If so, perhaps you
could let me know.
Uncle Billy used to catch trout with his hands in a local stream.
So of course, what did I do but catch trout with my hands in the same
local stream. Mother was quite happy to cook them, but I had to Behead
them and de-gut them first. This was fair enough, and it has to be said
that fish never tasted nicer than when caught by the eater.
These thoughts ran through my head as I visited this stream last week
and watched a dipper.
Today it was the dipper that was catching fish, as I was more happy to
watch than work. This bird would not manage the mighty fish I used to
catch so would have to move down-market and catch spricks or trout fry.
As the trout are only starting to move up-river to spawn, there would be
no fry in the river for at least another couple of months.
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